


Why is He Still Talking?

by avengersgoddess



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Consensual, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Praise Kink, Sandor has plans, Sandor’s favorite word is fuck, Sansa can’t wait, Sansa doesn’t always want to be a lady, The Hound has a dirty mouth, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 19:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersgoddess/pseuds/avengersgoddess
Summary: She wanted to be his lady in all ways possible, but hearing him right now and knowing she was safe to not be a lady... Why was he still talking?**We’re going to call this a collection of linked one-shots?**





	1. Why is He Still Talking?

**Author's Note:**

> Some people have a problem with ownership play, but please know that this story is 100% consensual. Sandor Clegane likes to be in charge and finding out that Sansa also wants that... well, this is Sandor’s version of heaven. And Sansa’s about to get what she’s been secretly dreaming about, so she’s looking forward to keeping her husband happy.

Sansa glanced at her new husband, seeing the hard set of his jaw. “My lord, you didn’t say a word the entire feast. Was it not to your liking?” she asked politely.

“It was fine, stop your chirping,” he growled. “Should have made you put that in your vows.”

Sansa looked at the floor. It was their wedding night, something she’d craved for as long as she could remember and yet he wouldn’t stop barking at her. He’d said he loved her, but maybe he already regretted marrying her.

She hadn’t realized she’d said the last part out loud, until he was suddenly in her space. He curled one hand around her waist and the other gripped the hair at the base of her neck, forcing her to tilt her head back and look at him.

“You really think I don’t want you, woman? You want to know what I’m thinking right now? I’m thinking about how beautiful you were walking towards me in the godswood. How lucky I am to finally call you wife and how I can’t wait to hear you call me husband. How I’ll kill any man that looks at you twice.”

She could see how tense he was as he took a deep breath and she thought of what she should say as his lady wife to soothe him. She stilled when he leaned down to growl in her ear, “But right now I can’t stop thinking about how I finally get to fuck you. How hard I’ve been for you since I found you again. How I don’t want you to be the Lady of Winterfell in my bed; I want the Sansa that no one else will ever get to see.”

“My lord...” she blushed. How could he make her go from worried to breathless so quickly?

Sandor smirked. “That’s right, I am your lord now, aren’t I? You like hearing that you’re mine, wife? I can see how tight your little nipples are right now. I can smell how wet you are for me; I bet I could slide into you so easily right now.”

Sansa whimpered, feeling like she was going to combust. He’d never talked to her like this before. She knew she should be appalled, but Gods. Knowing that Sandor wanted to take charge of her like he did in her dreams, she felt like she was going to cum without him even touching her.

She’d loved him for ages now; loved the gentle kiss he gave her forehead every night when he left her at her chamber door and the soft look in his eyes when she’d blink up at him. She wanted to be his lady in all ways possible, but hearing him right now and knowing she was also safe to not be a lady... Gods, why was he still talking?

“I think you like hearing me speak to you like the dog I am,” he said as he brought his hands to the ribbons holding the back of her wedding dress together. “Then know this: you’ll sleep with my cock in you every night. Every time you move, you’ll feel me stretching you. Every time you wake, you’ll think of whose seed fills your pretty little cunt. And every time I wake in the night, I’m going to fuck you. When you get up in the morning, you’ll feel my cum drip down you legs. You aren’t to get up and wash until I get a look at the mess I made of you.

And during the day, I’ll bend you over and fuck you hard until you cum on my cock while you’re planning the next feast or writing a letter to your kingly brother. You’re my beautiful little wife with the hot little hole meant to take my seed. And every time I see your tight little cunt take me in, I’ll tell you what a good girl you’ve been.”

Sansa moaned. She loved knowing she was doing a good job, and knowing that Sandor would be the one praising her while he was fucking her made her feel a little faint. Why was he still talking?

“...With all that cum filling you, I’ll put a pup in you fast. And every man that sees you will know that you open your legs to me every night. Knowing you’ll grow round with my babe makes me so hard I hurt; I’m going to keep putting pups in you until we have a whole litter. Now my Little Bird, does that answer your question?”

Sansa licked her lips. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember. Please, make me yours. Please, Sandor,” she whined, staring into his eyes and clenching her thighs together.

His eyes darkened; hearing her beg would be the death of him. He was done talking.


	2. Sandor’s Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor’s perspective of their conversation on what he’s going to do to his little bird.

He looked down at his little wife, taking in her flushed cheeks, hooded eyes, and ragged breathing. _Fuck me_ , he thought. _I want her to look at me like that always. Wanting me. Wet. Fuck._

Sandor had planned to treat her gently tonight, like she always deserved to be treated, especially after her last marriage. But when his little bird made noises about him not wanting her and looking like she was about to cry, he’d snapped. He couldn’t bear to have her think he didn’t want her, didn’t love her.

He’d spilled all of his dirtiest, raunchiest fantasies; fantasies he’d barely let himself think about, even when he was alone in his bed and wrapping his hand around his swollen cock. For as long as he could remember, Sansa had starred in all his fantasies as he brought himself to relief, but never imagined that his desires would turn her on.

 _Gods, but now_. His thoughts ran wild.

Sandor had never wanted pups. Didn’t know what to do with them. Didn’t think he’d ever get married and wasn’t about to sire any bastards. But the second he found out Sansa Stark wanted to be his, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Thinking about her full of his seed, watching it leak out of her cunt right before he pushed it back in where it belonged. Imagined her round with his child, knowing he put it there. Knowing that the world would see that she was his. That she let him put his seed inside of her. Gods, he wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to keep her full until they had a whole litter of pups.

Sansa was his. His to take, his to love. He wanted to tie her to their bed and never let her leave. He wanted to love her slow and make her beg to cum, and he wanted to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck into so hard she had bruises on her hips. He wanted to fall asleep with his cock plugging her up, her tits in his hands. He wanted to wake in the middle of the night and lazily fuck into her while she slept, safe in his arms. He’d fill her little hole with more seed, keeping her wet and open for him, her little nub hard and sensitive. He wanted to see his mess between her legs and know that he put it there. He wanted to play with her until she came, screaming his name, begging for his cock as he watched her cunt clench around nothing. To see his seed slip down her thighs when she stood up to go wash and prepare for the day.

He knew his little bird was a great lady. Smart, kind and generous to her people, and he was now her lord. _Fuck_. He’d never cared about titles before, but he just knew that was going to become a thing for him. He didn’t fucking care what anyone else called him, but he was a possessive, dominant bastard and he wanted his wife to be a good little girl who wouldn’t kneel to anyone except him. And that was because she wanted to, because she longed for his love and approval. Wanted to make him happy. _Fuck_.

He’d have loved his little bird no matter what she wanted of him, but to see her little nipples harden when he told her she was a good little girl… he thought he’d cum on the spot. He had Sansa as his wife, he’d have pups in her belly soon, and he had the love of a woman who wanted his dominance.

Sandor knew he was a bastard. He knew he wasn’t a good man. He’d always assumed he’d spend the rest of his life on the battlefield, but the Gods had seen fit to give him this woman. She was the only light of good in his entire miserable life. He was going to spend the rest of his days fucking her deep into their bed, hearing her cry out his name.

Sandor gripped her little waist in his hands and yanked her to him. He gently tucked her hair behind one ear and leaned down, tongue tracing her earlobe. He heard her whimper and felt her hands clench the fabric on his chest, tugging on some of the hair that lay underneath. Smirking, he swapped his tongue for his teeth and took a little nibble before whispering, “Come to bed, little bird. Be a good little girl and let me show you what hounds do to wolves.”


	3. A Few Weeks In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks after their wedding night.

After the evening meal, Sansa found herself on her back, naked and sinking deep into their feather bed. They had an unofficial rule that once in their rooms for the night, they were naked. Even on the very rare nights he didn’t take her or give her pleasure, he wanted to feel her skin, not her shift. After spending the day buttoned up and secured in her dresses, she’d found it surprisingly freeing to bare herself to him.

Sandor loved seeing her naked, wasn’t disgusted by her scars, and she was never chilled in his arms. She often found herself absentmindedly running her fingers through his chest hair or lightly running her nails down his biceps. Her husband would rub her back and keep her close and wrapped in his arms. For a man of few words, he had certainly turned out to be a tactile man.

Tonight though, was not one of those quiet nights. She’d known as soon as she’d sat down next to her husband at the head table for the evening meal. He’d had a day of hard work, helping his men rebuild the glass gardens. Physical activity, whether it be training and battles or sifting through heavy rock, always meant his blood would be up. She had shivered in delight, thinking about the pleasures of the night ahead.

Sandor lightly rugged a nipple, bringing her rushing back to the present, where she was laid bare on their bed. Sandor’s hands gripped her knees and pushed, splitting her legs wide open as he pressed them into the furs. He did this every night  and every night she turned bright red, flushing all the way down to her chest. It was the end of the day and Sandor wanted to see if she was still a mess from their morning tryst. 

She _loved_ it.

It made her insides churn with embarrassment, she felt so exposed as she was opened to her husband’s gaze and the cool air of their rooms. Her natural instincts were to snap her legs up tight, but he took the decision from her. He controlled her pleasure, her body.

She felt a little dribble of wetness leak from her as she looked up at his face. His eyes, though they flickered up to her face to make sure she was okay, were focused in on her privates. Sandor’s nostrils flared, tracking the little bit of wetness as he licked his lips and growled deep in his chest. Her hips bucked as she thought about his tongue on her, drinking down his favorite kind of red - her.

She loved looking at her husband. She loved letting him control her and move her into whatever position he wanted. His strength and masculinity made her whimper and reach for him, because she knew he could easily hurt her, but he never would. She loved feeling his hands all over her body, leaving bruises from his fingertips and handprints when he swatted her backside during play.

Her husband was possessive; he’d never truly had anything of this own before. Now he did and her husband took very good care of his things. He kept her wrapped up in pleasure, in happiness, and protection. She knew he loved seeing his marks on her, seeing her womanhood all red and battered from his cock. Her love was a very physical man, who craved coupling with her often. Her body has been in a constant hum of pleasure since they’d wed.

She wanted his children and wanted desperately to provide him with sons and daughters. She wanted to see Sandor be a daddy to their little ones as they grew up into good men and women. His pups. She wanted to give him that, she was just lucky she had a husband who made getting all that so — ooooh. 

Swatting the inside of her thigh, Sandor grabbed her attention. “Be a good girl and keep them open,” he growled. “That’s my cunt. You’re empty and need to be filled full again.”

Sansa had always thought relations between a lord and his wife would be disgusting, hated how messy it was. Now, she loved seeing his seed on her body, drinking it down, and feeling it inside of her. She worried he’d find her wanton when he realized she was addicted to it, but he had just fucked her harder, deeper.

Above her, Sandor gripped his swollen cock, stroking it from root to tip. He was a big man, but his little bird had proven she could take him deep. He ran the top through the soaked creamy lips of her cunt and nudged her hard little nub, making her gasp out his name. She wasn’t messy with him anymore, but he’d fix that.

His cock wept as he stared down at his woman. He nudged her little clit again, leaving a drop of his seed behind. He groaned, and used his thumb to rub into into her nub, playing with her and flicking it back and forth.

“Sandor,” she moaned.

He continued to run his cock through her wet lips, coating himself in her cream. He knew he could get off just from this, it felt so good. He could feel her soaking his balls. 

“Yes, my lady?” he asked, a small smirk on his lips.

“In me,” she whined. “I need you in me. Please!”

Gods, he loved listening to her beg. And who was he to say no?

Taking his cock back in hand, Sandor slowly eased just the tip into her cunt. He  drew his hips back and fucked into her, only giving her the first few inches.

”Is this what you want? You know how to get what you want. Ask me again.”

Sansa's cheeks burned red, eyes bright and glittering.

”My lord. Husband. Please. I need you inside me. I need your seed. I’ve gone all day without you in me. Please, please fill me up,” she begged.

With her plea, Sandor thrust deeply into her, stretching and filling her all the to his balls. She let out a pained moan, but he knew she loved feeling him butt up against her womb. He placed one hand below her arse, tilting her hips for the perfect angle, so he could find that secret spot inside of her that made her scream down the castle. He’d keep battering up against her womb and everyone would know she was his.

He kept thrusting in and out of her, using his other hand to stroke and squeeze her tits. He tugged her nipples, before lightly slapping one. They’d discovered she liked a little pain and he’d give her whatever she wanted.

Sansa moaned and kept begging for more. She could feel herself climbing closer to her peak and slid a hand down her tummy until she reached her clit. Sandor growled again, eyes focused on her fingers as she played with herself, bring herself pleasure. He loved watching her and he loved watching his cock split her wide open, her cream covering his.

”Sansa,” he groaned. “Be a good little girl and cum for me.” He could feel his seed bubbling in his balls, ready to erupt into stream after stream deep into her womb.  ”Cum for me so I can fill you up and fuck my pup into you.”

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Yes, yes. Please. I love you. I love this. I always need you in me.” Sansa squeezed her hard clit, circling it one more time before peaking. She squeezed her eyes tight as she screamed his name. 

Sandor fucked into deeply, once, twice, three times before stilling. His boiling seed erupted into her cunt and he grunted loudly, panting her name and squeezing her hips tightly as he held himself into her until he was completely drained.

”Little bird,” he groaned as he slowly, tortuously pulled out. “You’re so good, so perfect. I love you so much.” He split her knees open again and stared down at her cunt. Red, messy with both their pleasures, he frowned as he some of his seed slipped out. Sansa gasped as he pushed it back inside her with his thick fingers before running his hands over her. She shivered as he touched her sensitive flesh.

”Beautiful,” he said.


	4. Sandor’s Perspective 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor finally has some happiness.

With one last deep thrust, Sandor filled his little bird with his seed. He knew he’d leave fingerprints on her hips tonight, along with small marks along her neck that showed the path his lips had taken. Without looking, he knew her cunt would look battered and bruised from the force of his thrusts. He was a big man with infinite strength and he happily used it to his advantage every night.

Even now, however, a few weeks after they’d wed, Sandor worried he’d scare away his little bird with his appetite for her. He constantly desired her. He’d never been this way before, going months between spilling himself inside whores. Sansa was different though.

Waking up to his beautiful wife was the best part of his day. He got to see her laugh and cry, working alongside her at Winterfell. He was in awe of her strength and would do anything to keep their little world happy and safe.

Maybe that’s why he was scared she’d push him away one day or wake up and not snuggle deeper into his arms. He’d tried to be the proper lord to her, but that hadn’t lasted long. He would never be a good man, but Sansa had decided that he was good for her. He wasn’t sure he believed in the Gods, but he thanked them every day for her.

For reasons he’d never understand, Sansa wanted him to be  _ himself _ . Crude, grumpy, dirty Sandor Clegane. She didn’t want to be treated like glass. She wanted him to hold her tight, kiss her deeply, and fuck her rough. He would happily do each of these things. He loved that she gave just as much to him.

They’d been enjoying each other for hours and though he’d pushed his wife over many peaks, he hadn’t let himself join her until now. The feeling of losing himself inside of her was his favorite feeling in the world. He felt free and safe, and even a little vulnerable as his sight whited out with the intensity of his pleasure.

Sandor slowly pulled out of her cunt and rolled off of her onto his side, sweat dripping down his back. He could feel it stinging the scratches left behind from her nails and wondered if she’d drawn blood this time. He loved feeling her marks on his skin and hoped they’d last for awhile. The only scars he’d ever want.

Reaching out, he pulled her back up against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. One hand covered her belly as he thought about the little pup he suspected might be there; the other covered her teat, letting it fill his palm as he absentmindedly played with her nipple. She’d missed her courses this month, though he wasn’t sure she’d noticed yet. Gods, he hoped he’d given her a child. He’d filled her with enough seed over the past weeks that it was bound to happen soon and his cock hardened thinking of her growing round with his babe.

His little bird would fall asleep soon and he’d soon follow. He pulled his hand from her belly and stroked her legs, coming to rest right under her bottom. He gently squeezed the back of her thigh, and lifted, settling her leg on his forearm and his fingers on her cunt. Sansa moaned as she felt her his fingers slip into her, holding her lips open as he gently played with her little nub.

She didn’t open her eyes and her breathing continued to deepen. Reaching back, he took his cock in hand and slowly, slowly slid into her until he bottomed out. Without thinking, his hips tried to thrust in deeper and he settled his tip right up against her womb.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Stay.”

Neither of them needed to cum right now, but he needed to be inside he, to be wrapped around her as they slept. She needed him inside her, anchoring her to their bed. She slipped her hand over his on her belly, slipping her fingers between his. He knew she hoped for pups soon, too.


	5. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa faces the consequences of teasing her husband.

Winter had arrived. They were day 3 into a blizzard, the likes of which Sandor had never seen before. Sansa had barely blinked an eye when they’d woken up one morning to snow past his knees. She’d simply smiled and burrowed deeper under the furs and into his arms.

The first two days, their people had tried to go about their business as usual. With no end in sight to the storm, however, he’d ordered his men to rest for the day. He didn’t need his men to freeze their balls or sword hands off. At this rate, if someone made it to the gates of Winterfell, they deserved to come in.

Following his lead, Sansa had relieved most of the household staff for the day. He thought this meant he’d get to stay in their rooms all day, spend it balls deep in his wife. But no. Sansa was up and about making sure everyone had enough ale or tea and that the fires were going strong.

After watching his wife flit around the Great Hall, Sandor noticed Sansa was finding extra excuses to touch him. His little bird was teasing him and his fingers kept twitching, aching to grab her hips and pull her straight down onto his lap in front of everyone. He wanted to rip her skirts out of the way and slid his cock deep into her cunt, wanted to fuck her and make her scream in front of everyone.

Instead, he let her play her game — he’d win in the end.

At that moment, Sansa circled back to the head table, hips swinging more than usual. She ran her fingers lightly across the glazed wood and stalked towards him. Sandor leaned back in his chair and watched, his right hand propping up his chin in a posture of relaxation. Ever the strategist, he started planning how he’d turn the tables on his little wife.

Sansa ran her fingers lightly over his hand, playing with each finger before moving up his arm. She shivered as she felt his muscles, knowing the strength his body held. Whether it involved leading their men or holding her up against the wall, her husband was incredibly solid and masculine. She loved it, and lusted after it daily. Looking up into his eyes, her fingers continued up his bicep, over his shoulder, and up to his neck. She nibbled on her her bottom lip before sucking on it. His eyes blazed and his muscles tightened, his cock lengthening in his breeches. She dragged her nails slowly down his chest, digging them in before flicking his nipple.

Sandor growled and whispered, “Be careful, little girl. Do you know what you’re asking for?”

Sansa flicked his nipple again before turning around to face the table. She bent over and snagged a piece of fruit before looking back at him over her shoulder. Sandor stood up, his chair violently tipping over behind him. Sansa laughed lightly, knowing those left at the tables below were watching but not understanding her husband’s sudden movement.

Sandor felt his wife’s ass brush his cock and he groaned aloud. He needed everyone in the hall to leave right fucking now. He gripped her hips and roughly yanked her back towards him, lining her hot cunt up with his cock.

He thrust against her twice before roaring, “Everyone get the fuck out NOW. I will kill anyone who is still in here in 30 seconds.”

Silence reigned before benches started scraping against the hard floor and people scrambled out the door.

“Sandor!” she squealed, blushing to the roots of her hair.

“You pushed too far, little bird,” he growled as the door closed for the final time.

Sandor reached over her and swiped everything off the table, food splattering on the floor. He spun her around roughly and laid her out on the table, leaning over her as he ran his hands slowing up her stomach, feeling the small bump that held their pup.

He fondled her breasts, weighing the subtle differences in her body before pinching her nipples. Immediately, her back arched and she moaned deeply. Sandor gripped the neck of her dress and ripped it down the middle. Her breasts fell out and he stared her in the eyes as he laved one with his tongue before taking her nipple between his teeth.

“Sandor…” she moaned. “Please, please. I need you.”

Abruptly, Sandor flipped her back over and bent her over the table, pushing her bare breasts into the cold table, making her shriek a little.

“I should leave you here. Punish you for teasing me with your plump teats and hot cunt all morning. However…” he trailed off.

SMACK!

Sansa squealed as his hand came down on her backside. Her body felt like it was on fire and her cheeks blushed deeply as she thought about all the people who might hear what he was doing to her.

“I don’t think you really felt that through your skirts,” he whispered in her ear. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

Sansa moaned and nodded her head against the table. “Please,” she begged. “Again. Anything you want!”

Sandor chuckled and flipped her skirts up over her ass. Gripping her small clothes in his hands, he ripped them off her. Balling them up, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, forcing to arch off the table.

“Open,” he commanded.

Sansa gasped and moaned, opening her mouth wide as he stuff her wet small clothes in her mouth. She immediately felt herself get wetter as she realized what he was doing.

Satisfied that no one would hear her screams that belonged to him alone, he took a step back and admired his handiwork. The Lady of Winterfell, bent over the head table with her teats pressed against the cool wood in the spot where he usually sat. Her skirts flipped up over her ass, leaving her bare to his eyes. He could see how wet her thighs were. _Fuck_ , he thought. _I’ll never be able to sit here again without thinking about fucking my wife_.

Stepping behind his wife again, he opened his breeches and took his cock in his hand. He ran the tip between her soaked little lips and up between the asscheeks. Sansa moaned and he smirked.

“Do you deserve my cock? Have you earned it?”

Sansa nodded her head rapidly, looking over her shoulder at him. Her moans came out muffled as she started moving her hips in an effort to take him inside her.

SMACK! Sandor brought his hand down on her right asscheek, watching it bloom red under his palm. SMACK! He brought his other hand down of her left side.

“You blush so pretty,” he growled, bringing his hands down twice more on each side. “You’re going to feel this for days.”

Knowing he was close, he suddenly thrust balls deep into her cunt and rubbed a finger against her little asshole. Sansa squirmed and sobbed, begging through her small clothes. He brought his finger around her front to her hard clit and squeezed. Sansa exploded, her sweet cunt convulsing on his cock and holding him so tight inside her he didn’t think he could move. Watching his wife peak so quickly and seeing her ass so red because of his hands brought him closer to his own. He thrust into her once, twice, three more times before ripping his cock out of her. He fisted his length and grunted as he watched wave after wave of his seed splattered across her ass and lower back. He’d always made sure to spill his seed inside her, but seeing it splashed across her bruised ass, _fuck_. He squeezed his cock twice more, making sure every drop he could give her was all painted across her skin.

Sandor yanked the cloth out of her mouth and watched as Sansa gulped in air as wrapped her hair around his fist. “My seed stays,” he growled. “You do not clean up, you do not put on new small clothes. I want to see it there tonight. Do you understand?”

She nodded rapidly, a small smile on her lips. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good girl,” he said, kissing her temple. “You’re mine and everyone knows exactly what I just did to you.”

She glanced at the food on the floor and the dented metal cups. _They certainly will_ , she thought. _Gods_.


End file.
